Judgment
by xrosepetalx
Summary: The Sorting. Sequel to Decision.


**Judgment**

As the double doors swung open in front of them, all Albus could register was _gold_. There seemed to be gold everywhere, from the cutlery and crockery to the floor and walls that seemed to be shining with some kind of gold inlay. He spared a moment to look up at the famous ceiling that Aunt Hermione had told him so much about. _What's the big deal?_ Albus thought to himself. _It just looks like there isn't a ceiling at all._

His attention was drawn back to Earth as a four-legged stool was thunked in front of the gaggle of first years. A frayed old wizard's hat was placed upon it, and all of a sudden, it seemed like the whole hall was holding its breath, waiting for something. A rip near the brim opened and the hat started to sing:

"_Look at me; what do you see?  
__A shabby old wizard's cap?  
__But that's not all: in this Great Hall,  
__I start to mind the gap.  
__For people are all different,  
__Their personalities alive,  
__And living with similar mindsets  
__Helps young children to thrive.  
__Will you be a Gryffindor,  
__Where courage is the best?  
__These lions are never afraid  
__To go on a dangerous quest.  
__Or will you be a Hufflepuff,  
__Where loyalty's the treasure?  
__Those badgers always help a friend:  
__They find no greater pleasure.  
__Mayhap you'll be a Ravenclaw,  
__Where strength of mind abounds,  
__Sharp eagles lead in circles,  
__Their cleverness knows no bounds.  
__Perhaps you'll be a Slytherin,  
__Where cunning is the goal,  
__Slippery snakes get what they want  
__And play the perfect role.  
__So try me on! Let me in!  
__I'll sort everything out.  
__I'll try to finish quickly  
__And end it with a shout!_"

_That's it?_ Albus thought. None of his family had told him how they were to be Sorted, though he heard Uncle Ron mention something about wrestling a troll to Rose. Amazingly, that wasn't the stupidest idea he had heard when waiting with his yearmates in the holding room. Albus, of course, had not taken part in the speculation, instead leaning against a wall in the shadows with Scorpius, quietly smirking at the thicker of their _peers_.

A great bout of nerves suddenly gripped Albus. His whole midsection started to ache like he had been exercising for hours and the muscles were just loosening. He knew he wouldn't be in Gryffindor, but where _would_ he be?

Not Hufflepuff, that's for sure. While he could be incredibly loyal when he wanted to be, there were only a select few that made the cut. Ravenclaw? Possibly. He considered himself moderately intelligent and clever, but then, look at what he grew up with. The comparison is probably a little skewed. _Maybe…_

"Potter, Albus!" squeaked Professor Flitwick. He had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts he had missed more than half of the Sorting.

Climbing the few steps with a careful grace, Albus flicked his eyes over the ends of the four tables, noting Scorpius sitting with a subdued pride at the end of the Slytherin table. When he was spotted, Scorpius sent him a smirk and discreetly patted the open seat next to him, inclining his head towards Albus. He sent back a half-smile, turned toward the rest of the hall, and sat.

The hat slipped on his head, over his forehead, to finally rest on the bridge of his nose with his glasses. There was pitch darkness for one second, and then a voice started whispering in his ear.

_Hmmm…very complex, just like your father…Oh, JUST like your father…plenty of talent…a thirst for knowledge, but not for knowledge's sake…a bit of wit and cunning…oh, you will do well…_

"SLYTHERIN!" the Hat shouted. Applause broke out through the Hall, though it was noticeably louder at the Slytherin table. As he headed over and slipped into his seat, Albus snuck a glance at James over at the Gryffindor table. He looked slightly put-out, but he still managed a grin and a thumbs-up for his brother and received a half-smile in return that Albus was so famous for in the family. As Scorpius patted him on the shoulder in congratulations, he thought, _Maybe this won't be so bad._


End file.
